


Touch

by HarmonyLover



Category: Glee
Genre: "Sexy", M/M, s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonyLover/pseuds/HarmonyLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his painful conversation with Kurt in "Sexy," and before he goes to talk with Burt Hummel, Blaine thinks about the meaning of touch.  S2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Glee; it all belongs to 20th Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> Author’s Note: I wrote this after a rewatch of "Sexy," and as uncomfortable as some of the moments between Kurt and Blaine are, they’re also heartbreaking, in more ways than one. I wanted to explore a little bit of this episode from Blaine’s perspective. There are chunks of dialogue at the beginning that are taken directly from the episode; those pieces belong to the Glee writers and not to me.
> 
> I have no idea what the writers were thinking for S3, making Blaine a junior when Kurt is a senior. For this little story, I’m sticking with my original impression of Season Two, which is that Blaine and Kurt are both juniors and Blaine transferred to Dalton as a freshman.
> 
> My deep thanks to WickedForGood13 for her feedback and encouragement.

**Touch**

 

“Um, Kurt, they’re all kind of looking the same,” Blaine said with a slight laugh, his voice a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“That’s because the face I’m actually doing isn’t comfortable,” Kurt sighed, standing up. “This is pointless, Blaine. I don’t know the first thing about how to be sexy because I don’t know anything about sex.”

Blaine’s amusement grew even more as he saw the pink dusting his friend’s cheeks. “Kurt, you’re blushing,” he said teasingly, smiling, half-amazed by what he was seeing. It was very hard to fluster Kurt Hummel, and despite having seen almost every emotion from the boy who had rapidly become his closest friend, Blaine wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him blush. Yet here they were, and the merest mention of sex was embarrassing Kurt. The next thing out of Kurt’s mouth, however, surprised Blaine so much that his eyes went wide.

“I’ve tried watching _those_ movies, and I just end up feeling depressed, thinking that they all had mothers once, and, God, what would their mothers think, and why would you put that tattoo there?” Kurt went on, twisting his hands together.

Blaine knew he was still staring, but Kurt didn’t seem to notice, which was another indication of how profoundly uncomfortable he was. Had he really turned to – well, _those_ – trying to understand what sex was like?

Blaine found he was having difficulty breathing. It _hurt_ to see Kurt like this, hurt in a way that he couldn’t understand or explain. He wanted to help, though he wasn’t sure how. Kurt trusted him; would he trust him this far?

“Well, maybe we should have a conversation about it,” he offered, folding his legs into a more comfortable position. “I’ll tell you what I know.”

Kurt shook his head instantly, alarm flaring in his eyes. “I don’t want to know the graphic details,” he said hastily. He looked pleadingly at Blaine, trying to get him to understand. “I like romance. This is why I like Hollywood musicals: because a touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets.”

“Kurt, you’re going to have to learn about it someday,” Blaine said reasonably.

“Well, not today,” Kurt said abruptly, cutting off whatever Blaine might have said next. “I think I’ve learned quite enough for today, thank you. I think you should leave.”

If Blaine had thought his heart hurt before, it was nothing to what he felt now.

* * *

 

Blaine left Kurt’s house with his head still swimming, and he automatically piloted his car to the Lima Bean. He parked in front of the coffeehouse, entered, and ordered a medium drip before his mind really caught up to what his body was doing.

He sighed as he took the coffee from the barista, weaving his way between the tables and finding a secluded spot in the corner. He sipped at the hot drink, trying to hold down the ache welling in his chest.

Kurt _never_ shut him out. They had never been afraid to talk to each other, even during the painfully recent Rachel Berry fiasco. They had both been angry and confused, but they had kept talking. Even when it had felt as though they had never been so far apart, they had kept talking. After he had sorted through his confusion over Rachel, after Kurt had apologized again and again for being so insensitive and hurtful, they had seemed to reach a new level of closeness as friends, a new level of safety and reassurance.

Yet today Kurt had told him to leave.

Blaine closed his eyes and tried to picture Kurt’s face as he had seen it last, trying to understand what was in his expression. Kurt had been ill at ease, without a doubt, but there had also been unhappiness, awkwardness, embarrassment, and – _fear_. So much fear.

_Oh._

Blaine buried his fingers in his hair, leaning over the table as his throat tightened. He had to be the world’s worst friend. How could he not have seen what was going on?

Kurt wasn’t just uncomfortable about sex, he was afraid of it – for reasons that had nothing to do with being cold or emotionless. In fact, it had to be precisely the opposite. Blaine knew just how much emotion Kurt kept buried under his fabulous outfits, his endless sarcasm, his fierce pride. His feelings for people were kept under lock and key in his daily life precisely because those feelings could get him hurt. Even with Karofsky, up until those last few disastrous weeks before he transferred, Kurt had feigned indifference to his bully and refused to let his fear show.

 _He’s lived with bullying, insults, and intimidation his entire life_ , Blaine thought. _It’s an invasion of personal space based on pain. Why on earth would it be easy for him to think about sex, about being so physically and emotionally vulnerable with someone else? Being vulnerable has always gotten him hurt._

Well, there was something he understood all too well. Dapperness and charm were naturally a part of Blaine, but they also proved to be useful shields. He hadn’t told Kurt a great deal about his life before Dalton, but he had told him enough. Kurt trusted him because they had shared some of the same experiences, because they both knew what it was like to be tormented simply for being different.

 _No_ , Blaine silently amended. _Not simply for being different. For loving differently. For having the most intimate and important aspect of our lives operate differently than it does for the majority of the world. Even though we don’t choose the people we’re attracted to or the people we love, any more than anyone else does._

Blaine took another sip of his coffee, noticing abstractly that his hands were shaking. He had told Kurt during their first meeting that he regretted running from his bullies – and he did, still, perhaps would always – but the events of this year had opened his eyes to how much Dalton had saved him. After an adjustment period during which Blaine had gotten used to the overt friendliness of everyone around him and had learned to stop jumping at every loud noise, he had allowed himself to open up again, to be himself with the Warblers insofar as it was possible. Blaine adored his friends, and they were all ridiculously comfortable with one another and profoundly unconcerned with each other’s sexual orientation, except as it related to the occasional date or potential relationship. While he (and Nick and Jeff, for that matter) weren’t overt about their preferences, the other guys knew as a matter of course, and openly teased or ribbed them about it.

Kurt hadn’t had Dalton or the Warblers for more than two solid years the way Blaine had. Kurt had grown to love them – and really, it was rather impossible not to, for all of their craziness – but he still held himself back and apart, just a little, staying away from the roughhousing and casual physical contact that happened in Warblers rehearsal on a daily basis. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to see him as a threat.

 _All people like Karofsky see is what they **think** he is_ , Blaine thought viciously, his eyes stinging with anger and almost with tears. _They don’t see **him** , they don’t see everything about him that makes him such an amazing person. _  

It had occurred to him to wonder, more than once, how often Kurt’s other friends simply touched him in a way that wasn’t threatening or painful. While he couldn’t imagine Rachel, for example, actually harming Kurt, did she ever just hug him? Mercedes did, certainly, Blaine knew that, but he was just as certain that the New Directions guys would never go near Kurt in the hallways of that school. The idea that physical contact was something to be feared was only being reinforced.

Like all human beings, though, Kurt needed touch. With Blaine he was different. Kurt was still careful, still tentative, but with Blaine he touched, he allowed the one-armed hugs and physical proximity on Dalton’s leather couches, uniformed arms brushing each other, Blaine’s hand on his shoulder. Blaine was sure Kurt cherished those moments, though he never said so.  His eyes said it for him. Being touched was a natural way of communicating affection, and while Kurt had learned to live without it, he shouldn’t have to.

 _Of course, he might also cherish those touches because they’re **yours**_ , his mind pointed out unhelpfully. _He lets you touch him when you want to, but he’s more cautious about touching you. He’s afraid, yes, but also careful because he doesn’t want to cross boundaries, doesn’t want to do anything you don’t want._

Blaine closed his eyes again, trying to shove the thought away. He couldn’t think about that right now; he was trying to be Kurt’s friend and help him without bringing his own confused feelings into the picture. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Kurt. He had done enough of that already. Surely he could find a way to help that was within the limits of their friendship.

The fact remained that someone, sometime, would see how incredible Kurt was, or Kurt would meet someone that he wanted to kiss and perhaps . . . be with. He should have enough information to set boundaries, enough to be able to protect himself from harm, because the thought of anything else was enough to make Blaine feel sick.

Burt. He could talk to Burt.

Kurt and his father had an amazing relationship. Even when he and Kurt didn’t entirely understand one another, even when they disagreed, Burt loved and protected his son to a degree that was completely foreign to Blaine. Blaine would have given almost anything for his father to appreciate him and accept him the way that Burt accepted everything Kurt was. Kurt wouldn’t listen to him, Blaine, but he would listen to his father, no matter how uncomfortable the conversation.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t left the best impression on Burt, sleeping off his drunkenness from Rachel’s house party in Kurt’s bed – being stupid enough to get drunk in the first place, for that matter – but perhaps he could rectify that now. Burt seemed like the kind of person to give people second chances, and hopefully he would see Blaine’s protectiveness of and friendship for Kurt as marks in his favor.

Even if he didn’t, Blaine had to try. Anything he could do to spare Kurt more emotional scars would be worth it.

He finished his coffee in silence, thinking about what to say to Burt Hummel.

He studiously ignored the fact that his hands were trembling again.


End file.
